


Perhaps There are Threads of Many Colors

by azhdarchidaen



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Essentially about Vox Machina and friends becoming each others' ramshackle support system, Gen, Mentally Ill Characters, Messed-up people finding home in each other, Platonic Relationships, Queer Characters, Some re-imagining of canon events
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-02 15:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azhdarchidaen/pseuds/azhdarchidaen
Summary: It's said that a red thread connects those who are meant to someday be lovers, guiding them to the person they're destined to have in their life. But there are other relationships that are also meant to be, and the tangled web of strings that surrounds those who find each other is a beautiful sight to behold.(Because sometimes a family can be a pair of twins used to running, a conservationist with a heart to save people as well as animals, an engineering student more scared of his past than his finals, a nurse with a heart of gold and her adopted brother, a struggling musician, and all the people they drag along with them.)





	1. Neon Witnesses

“It looks like shit.”

Vex gazed around the empty apartment, taking in every plastered crack and crumbling moulding that was visible from the doorway. The place had green shag carpeting. _Green_ _carpet_.

“Aw, don’t be so disparaging, sister,” Vax said as he rattled the keys in his hand and stepped inside. “I’m sure we can make it work for us.”

“It looks like the ‘70s crawled in here and _died_ ,” she said, still refusing to leave the threshold.

“But they allow dogs,” Vax said cheerfully, flopping down on the horrible carpeting.

Well... that was true. And had been hard to find in an apartment the twins could afford.

Vex glanced down at the giant Newfie at her side, Trinket returning her gaze almost expectantly. She rubbed his head, adjusted the backpack she was carrying, and followed her brother in.

“Get off the floor, Vax, “ she said, rolling her eyes, then shrieked slightly as her brother -- currently a pile of ripped skinny jeans and leather jacket and hair as long as her own -- rolled onto his stomach and lightning-fast grabbed her ankle.

“Oh, but don’t you want to join me?” he said.

“Vax…” she warned. He let her ankle go, only to be tackled by Trinket, who seemed to have decided that anyone on the floor was fair game for snuggling.

“Woah there,” Vax gasped, slightly winded. The sudden weight of such a massive dog would likely be an inconvenience to many, but particularly her twig of a brother.

“I’m going to check out the kitchen,” Vex said, already turning to the doorway that she assumed lead to it. She was also disguising a smile on her face -- it was good to see Vax joking around like this, and not retreated into the shell he’d been occupying for nearly the whole last month.

Getting a new start was probably what he needed. And what he needed, she needed too.

The kitchen continued the trend of the horrid interior decorating, peeling lime-green linoleum covering most of it. But there was a stovetop, and an oven, and a fridge, which was more that could be said of their previous living arrangement. Vex wasn’t much of a chef, but her brother dabbled on occasion. Frankly, the concept of surviving off of anything other than microwave meals and instant ramen sounded like heaven.

Her tour of the rest of the place was brief, largely because there were only two more rooms to explore. The bathroom was passable, even if it had more linoleum. She tried not to linger too long on her reflection in the mirror over the sink, remembering the rushed job she’d done on her makeup in the seedy motel they’d left this morning.

The room held a shower attached to a bathtub which, again, felt like a massive luxury compared to some of the twins’ previous accommodations. Visions of taking a long soak after work -- and likely taunting her brother by occupying the room for too long -- danced into her head almost instantly. This was good.

There was also the single bedroom, which the two of them had already agreed they’d try to equip with a trundle bed to make the most of the space. It had more terrible carpet, but also a decent size closet, which meant there would be less squabbling over who got what space to store their things.

“It’s still shit, but it’ll work,” she announced as she wandered back into the living room area, where Vax was still wrestling with Trinket.

“Glad you approve, O incredibly wise sister,” he said, and she swatted him gently on the head.

“Which means we’ve got to get around to all the other moving-in things,” she said, giving Vax a meaningful look.

“Such as?”

“Well, getting the stuff from the fucking car would be a start,” she said.

“Because we own so many things,” Vax replied.

“You know perfectly well that we have to at least get the laptop if we want to browse Craigslist to find some actual furniture,” she said.

They both sighed, practically simultaneously, remembering that they’d had to abandon their previous things due to a lack of car space, and an even more glaring lack of funds to rent a U-Haul.

The sigh also held deeper regrets, ones related to why they’d had to move in the first place.

“Alright, a car adventure it is,” Vax finally said. “Lovely thing that we live at the top of the stairs here.”

“I’m fairly certain even you can carry some sleeping bags up a few flights,” Vex teased. “Though I could always be wrong.”

It took only two trips for the pair of them to carry the entirety of their belongings from their space in the apartment parking lot up to their new place, an observation that Vex found sobering. But they laid out their sleeping bags in the bedroom, stacked their handful of plates on the kitchen shelves, stuck their toiletries in the medicine cabinet, and made do with what they had.

Vax stood in the living room now, hands on his hips, surveying it like the single thing in the room wasn’t their shared laptop computer, plugged into a nearby outlet to charge.

“So what’s next?” he inquired.

 _“So many things,”_ Vex wanted to say, because there were. An overwhelming amount of things. Settling into a new city, uprooting your life and going someplace else -- it was something the twins had done too many times now, and she was intimately familiar with the process.

_Grocery shopping, checking the apartment dumpster to see if anyone had thrown out salvageable furniture, figuring out wherever the heck the address was of the place she started work at tomorrow, getting Vax a new therapist, getting Vax a new job, finding the nearest park to walk Trinket, tracking down the local second-hand stores, and dollar stores, paying the pet deposit they hadn’t known about until the landlord brought it up when they picked up their keys…_

“Dinner?” she said. “At a restaurant or something. It’s our first night in a new place, I think we can afford to treat ourselves.”

“I saw a hole-in-the-wall Mediterranean place as we were driving in,” Vax suggested. “Didn’t look too expensive. You like falafel, right?”

 

***

 

“Not bad,” Vex said, setting down her pita to wipe a smear of tzatziki from the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

“Worth splurging?” Vax teased. He liked to badger her about her tight-fisted spending habits, even though they both knew that Vex’s shrewd budgeting was probably half the reason they were still alive.

“We have more dog food than people food in the apartment right now. Unless you wanted to make an 8pm grocery run, we didn’t have a lot of options.”

“I’ll go shopping tomorrow after I drop you off at work,” Vax said. “I might as well make myself useful while unemployed.”

Vex bit her lip. It was one of her brother’s typically self-derogatory quips, but they both knew it was a serious problem. They’d barely had enough money to make the move, and her salary alone wasn’t going to pay the bills for long if they also wanted to eat.

Except finding a place that would hire Vax was generally a challenge, since most establishments weren’t really looking for a transgender hire with a criminal record.

“Hey,” she said. “You’re going to figure something out. We’re going to figure something out together. That was the whole point of moving, right? A new start. New city, new surroundings, new everything. New us.”

“New us,” Vax echoed, lifting his cheap fountain drink in an imitation of a toast. She smirked at him and raised her own cup, clinking the plastic lids against each other. Outside the empty little restaurant, the neon lights of the city gave a comforting glow, the sole observers to hear their proclamation.

Vex set down her drink, gazing across the booth they’d claimed at her twin. The two of them had already been through so much together, and there was no promising things were going to get any better here. But sitting there, staring at Vax actually giving her a smile again, after his grin had been absent for so long, the promise of a new beginning overruling her racing thoughts of everything that needed to be done in the next few days, a strange peace settled over her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Vax and Vex had lived in a whirlwind of places over the course of their lives, some that they were more reluctant to leave than others. Lately, it seemed like whenever they settled down there would be a reason they had to leave within a couple months. It made having roots, having friends, having safe havens feel immensely pointless.

She wasn’t going to let that happen this time if she could help it. They were going try really damn hard to make this place their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The intended format of this fic is a series of snapshots in the characters' lives sewn together, though there will still be a relative chronology to them, and some of the more complicated story points will probably end up spanning at least a few chapters.
> 
> I'm really genuinely excited about this AU at the moment, so if anyone wants to pester me with questions about it that I don't deem too spoilery, feel free to drop them in my ask box at http://astriiformes.tumblr.com/ask. I'm very new to getting involved with Critical Role things, so I would be delighted to find more people to chat with about it!


	2. Ionic Bonding

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Keyleth stammered as she pulled open the door to her Chemistry 202 lab. Thanks to a missed alarm clock, she wasn’t making exactly the impression she hoped, busting into class late with wild hair that she hadn’t had the time to take a hairbrush to and mis-matched socks. Well, the socks would probably have happened anyway, but they weren’t helping.

The professor gave her a slight nod, pausing in her lecturing to acknowledge her tardy arrival, then stood there, stiff and expectant, implying that Keyleth ought to take a seat.

She scanned the room, heart sinking into her stomach a bit when she couldn’t seem to find an empty seat. 

_ No, wait -- there!  _

Near one of the windows, there was a chair open next to a gangly-looking boy with a shock of bright white hair. It didn’t escape her notice that there was a decent chance whoever she shared a table with might end up being her lab partner for the semester, but fortunately he didn’t look too intimidating. Pretty geeky, actually.

Wandering over and taking a seat, she gave the boy a friendly smile. He nodded back at her, no similar expression crossing his serious face, and Keyleth slumped slightly in her seat. She supposed she shouldn’t take it as too much of a disappointment, but hey -- she was still trying to make friends at school. She hadn’t been here super long, and seemed to have awful luck with it so far.

The professor let them loose on the experiment pretty shortly after her arrival, leaving Keyleth completely unaware of the procedures they were supposed to follow in class today. Once there was finally a “You may begin” announcement, she turned to the boy next to her and smiled at him again.

“Do you know what we’re supposed to be doing today?” she asked cheerfully. “I sort of missed the instructions.”

The boy gave a sigh. “Clearly,” he said, and Keyleth felt a sad twinge once again. 

But he continued. “I did take copious notes on the instructions, however, so I believe we will be able to complete the assignment. It’s a simple identification of unknown substances based on their properties. Beginner stuff, really.”

As it turned out, it did  _ not _ feel like beginner stuff to Keyleth. She fumbled with some of the instruments, nervous about making a mistake that could mess up their results. She had always been a good student, and the concepts had totally clicked during lecture, but putting them in practice was confusing and a bit nerve-wracking thanks to her anxiety.

Her partner-by-chance, on the other hand, seemed quite comfortable with experimentation. His hands worked quickly, gracefully, and with a confidence that she seemed to lack. But most noticeably, he was silent -- never asking Keyleth to assist, and in fact leaving her a bit in the dust. By the time they had completed the lab, she felt sort of like she’d done nothing.

“Well, I think we’ve got it,” the boy said finally, finishing off his notes.

“Can I, uh, copy some parts of your results?” Keyleth squeaked, looking down at her own, more sparse assignment. The boy sighed once again, and slid his paper over to her.

“I believe the substance we were attempting to identify was silver nitrate,” he said crisply.

Keyleth had always put a little stock in the idea that someone’s handwriting could tell you a fair amount about them -- her own looping scrawl spoke of dreaminess, a carefree hint sneaking into cursive “L’s” and “E’s,” an analysis she couldn’t deny was true. Her lab partner’s handwriting, on the other hand, was tighter, somehow both a messy scrawl that spoke of a busy, anxious mind and a textbook example of guarded, learned penmanship.

It was an odd combination, to say the least, but she didn’t dwell on it long as her cheeks were already flushed with embarrassment over the way she’d fumbled through the lab. 

Once she finished copying the results she needed, she handed the paper back to her lab partner and gave him another bright grin.

“My name’s Keyleth, by the way. I didn’t catch yours.”

“Percival,” he said, taking the papers back and tapping them gently on the counter to get them all neatly stacked. “We’ve finished a bit early, but I believe we can hand these in.”

“Oh, right. Of course. Sounds good,” Keyleth said.

Percival gave her an odd look

“Stapler!” she said brightly. “We do need to find a stapler first.”

“...There’s one on the counter,” Percival said.

“Oh… that makes sense,” Keyleth said.

_ Ugh, she was being so awkward. This was a disaster. _

“Well, that means we’re done here,” he said, and began to get up. 

“Wait!” Keyleth said, and he paused.

“Yes?” He turned back around to face her.

“It’s… well. I’ll see you in lab next week, I guess,” she said. “It was nice working with you.”

It was a small flicker, but she could have sworn that she saw the ghost of a smile trying to cross his face. It didn’t remain there long.

“Yes, I’ll see you next week,” he said, and then turned to head back towards the professor’s desk.

Keyleth slumped back into her chair. After a rather isolated childhood, she’d really hoped that making some friends would be a part of her college experience. She couldn’t seem to make it work though. What had happened here? Was it him? Was it her?

She wished she knew.

 

****

 

“Be careful with the flame,” Percival warned as Keyleth turned up the gas on their bunsen burner. 

The reminder might have annoyed her in other circumstances, but she had to admit, she was already nervous. The two of them had done several labs together at this point, and she always seemed to be dragging a bit behind her very precise and scientifically-minded lab partner. She hadn’t yet given up on the idea of befriending him, because he was one of the only people she spoke to on a regular basis -- most of her classes were to big and full to facilitate conversations, and she lacked the social skills to snag people’s attention outside of them. But Percival always seemed so stiff, and distant, and not a particularly good candidate for her attention.

“I’m only putting it on the middle setting,” she replied, and he nodded with approval.

“I’ll measure out the mixture we need to put in the crucible,” he said, “Prepare to hold it over the flame once it’s ready.”

Heeding his words, Keyleth grabbed the first pair of tongs next to her and snapped them together a bit. She decided that it looked like a little alligator mouth, but she held back on saying so, just in case that was too weird. When Percival handed the crucible over to her, she closed them around it and held it over the fire.

It was a minute or two before she realized her mistake -- the tongs she’d grabbed had rubber tips.

“Ah!” she shrieked. “It’s melting! It’s melting!”

She yanked the crucible from the fire, and Percival’s face took on a determined, if slightly alarmed, look. One of his hands sneaked forward towards the crucible.

“Remove them before the rubber solidifies!” he said quickly, right as Keyleth gave a quick “Wait!”

Sure enough, Percival somewhat unthinkingly attempted to grab the crucible with his bare hands, jumping slightly as soon as they made contact.

“Augh!” he exclaimed, wringing the hand that had gotten singed.

“Where should I set it?” Keyleth asked, panicked.

“The counter, possibly?”

“Okay okay, it’s okay, I can do that,” she replied, setting it down gently and hoping the hot crucible wouldn’t burn the countertop. Once it was settled, they both stared at each other, Keyleth mortified -- this was clearly her mistake, and given Percival’s rather clinical attitude towards labs, she was expecting him to be very put out.

Instead, he laughed.

Keyleth began nervously laughing as well, and the two of them seemed to encourage each other’s devolving into giggles.

“I didn’t quite think that through,” Percival stated, holding up the hand whose fingertips were developing a concerning red tinge to them.

“Neither did I,” Keyleth said, experimentally trying to remove the partially-melted tongs from the still-hot crucible. Embarrassingly melted rubber stuck to it.

“I think we can salvage this,” Percival said.

“Really?” Keyleth said, a teasing note slipping into her voice. “It’s kind of a mess.”

“Oh, trust me, this isn’t the first time that I’ve been implicated in the destruction of lab equipment,” Percival said, smirking a bit.

“Ha, well, it’s my first time,” she said, nervously giggling again.

They both fell silent, seeming to contemplate the situation.

“Do you think…” Keyleth started nervously, knowing she was going out on a limb here. But for the first time, Percival’s distant shell seemed to have cracks in it, so if there was ever a time for this, it was probably now, “Do you think you’d like to maybe work on our lab reports together this week?” she asked.

“Hm?” he replied.

“There’s this little coffee shop,” she continued, “I work on homework there sometimes, it’s a nice place to chill out a bit. We could meet there sometime to work on this assignment, if you want.”

Percival seemed to consider it for a moment, and Keyleth had a brief moment of serious doubt -- maybe this was way too forward. She didn’t really know how to make friends. Was this the wrong way?

“That actually sounds rather nice,” he replied, however, and Keyleth’s heart did a little backflip.

“Let’s clean this up first though,” he said, cracking a wry grin at her.

“Oh, definitely. And please get some ice on your hand, that doesn’t look good.”

“I’ll consider it.”

 

****

 

That particular semester whizzed by in a flurry of assignments and obligations, both of them relatively new to this whole college thing, but by the time it was over, certain things had solidified. For one thing, Percival became “Percy,” and Keyleth began smiling as he started addressing her by her own name. Even if her contact entry in his phone was just that, while hers had a little emoji microscope next to his name. She’d thought it was a nice touch.

Their weekly time together turned into bi-weekly classes  _ and _ study sessions, and slowly, the occasional other hangout. A walk through the city park. Checking out the local farmer’s market in the fall to pick up fresh apple cider. A visit to the local science museum together, when there was a traveling exhibit on historical scientific illustrations. Poking through a used bookstore and both walking out with far too many finds -- ones on gardening and folklore and natural history for Keyleth, and engineering and inventors and the like for Percy.

They couldn’t crash in each others’ dorm rooms due to roommate troubles, so they started migrating towards the library and dining halls and other common areas. Where Keyleth started nudging the slightly-scrawny Percy to eat more, and Percy started helping the slightly-scattered Keyleth organize her thoughts a bit.

The semester ended, and they found themselves in different classes due to their disparate majors. But even without shared homework assignments, they realized that they were still texting each other about hanging out (well, Keyleth was -- but Percy almost never said “no”), and finding excuses to have study sessions. And talking -- it was the next semester that they really started the talking.

Keyleth was more open about things, starting to occasionally mention her earlier life -- her sheltered homeschooling, community upbringing, and excitement mingled with fear over stepping into the larger world on her own, a feeling of both freedom and expectation on her shoulders.

Percy talked less about himself. All Keyleth really learned was that he didn’t talk much about his family, to the point that she wondered if something had caused him to cut ties with them. He did bring up a younger sister, occasionally, but with touches of regret that he hid badly. She didn’t press the issue. Percy wasn’t a very open person.

The things he  _ did  _ talk about, however, still taught her a lot of things about him. He would bring up philosophy, existentialism, cosmology -- all the makings of a melancholy conversation in the hands of someone who approached them with pessimism, which he often seemed to. More than one evening was spent in an empty shop, over empty coffee cups, debating whether it was possible the universe cared. 

But the funny thing was, however much the pair disagreed, they continued the conversations anyway. It was like finding a clever debate partner, who could match your wits and make you think, but who you held in the highest esteem even while arguing. They’d bounce their worldviews off each other, not knowing how much was penetrating the others’ brain, but enjoying the interaction all the same.

By the end of the school year, they were spending more evenings together than apart.

They made a funny pair, the two of them, Keyleth frequently donning lengthy patterned skirts paired with sandals, t-shirts with various environmental slogans, a rotating assortment of bracelets, earrings, and even flower crowns when she felt like it. Percy, on the other hand, was always tightly buttoned up, rarely wearing anything remotely casual -- minus the somewhat weathered blue jacket that he refused to part with, even in increasingly warming temperatures. Keyleth didn’t know where he found things like waistcoats or even the occasional tie on a college student’s budget, but he was certainly fond of them. Even when they converged slightly in their clothing choices, the differences were staggering -- Keyleth’s favorite pair of paint-splattered jeans, bearing the occasional tear or grass stain, were a far cry from Percy’s carefully fitted ones, with the cuffs either folded up meticulously tucked into boots.

And it wasn’t like you couldn’t spot them in a crowd -- it was hard to be inconspicuous when one of your number had lengthy hair the color of bright flames, with a tendency to scatter wildly in even the slightest breeze, and the other bore a shock of barely-tamed brilliant white. Keyleth had asked Percy once about his decision to dye it, since he was generally the type to lurk in a corner rather than draw attention to himself. He’d mumbled something about it not really being his choice, and unfortunate genetics, probably, and she’d gently informed him she actually rather liked the look. He’d given her one of his oddly self-deprecating smiles.

Finals rolled around, and they buried themselves in studying. Still together, but distracted by their academics, as both of them were rather serious students.

Then school got out, and they found themselves still finding excuses to talk.

And Keyleth had an idea.

Both students were sick of campus living, of roommates who ignored them at best and snidely picked on them at worst, because to be fair, they were both quirky people, and quirks made them easy targets. Of dealing with the openness of dorms. Of the cost of lodging, and mandatory meal plans.

She had initiated the search, looking at first for a place of her own. But affordability was difficult to balance, and it quickly dawned on her that splitting the cost with someone would help her out. And after a week or so of browsing listings, she had a potential apartment. The only possible complication was that she didn’t have a confirmed roommate.

“Have you ever considered living off campus?” she asked one day in the library. The two of them were both taking summer classes in an attempt to stay on top of their ambitious double majors, and so academics still brought them together.

“Often,” Percy said dryly. “But it’s a bit of a pipe dream. I don’t make enough for it.”

He was referring, she assumed, to his work study job, doing tech repairs for the school. From the way he talked about it, it paid less than her own part-time gig at the local nursery, tending to wilting plants and trees.

“Ever thought about splitting the cost?” she prodded.

Percy quirked an eyebrow at her. “I assume you’re suggesting with yourself?”

“I found a place,” she admitted. “It’s small. Very small. The common area and kitchen are practically the same space, and the bathroom barely has room for a shower. But it’s got two bedrooms, and there’s a tiny terrace in the back that’d be great for an herb garden.”

“Walking distance from campus?” Neither of them had cars, and couldn’t afford them anytime soon. Particularly since Keyleth refused to consider anything with atrocious fuel economy.

“On the bus route.”

“And the rent?”

“Not great, but low enough that split it’d be less than we’re paying for our dorm rooms.”

“Hmm.”

She didn’t realize until this moment just how much she wanted to hear a “yes,” and felt her breath catch in her throat as Percy rested his chin on his folded hands.

“It sounds rather solid,” he said finally, and her face broke into a grin. He held up a hand before she could get too excited, and continued. “I’d like to see it first, if that’s a possibility.”

“Oh, yeah, obviously,” she said. “But you’re up for it? At least looking at it?”

It was his turn to smile at her, and hold his hands out in a bit of a shrugging gesture. “Why not? Seems like an appropriate adventure for two driftless, broke students.”

The feeling that settled over Keyleth as he spoke was special. She hadn’t really had friends growing up, always the weird kid who did better around animals than people, running around barefoot in the woods. College was her first step into a world where people did things like talk to each other, and bond, and make connections. 

She still didn’t have very many, but right now, even her limited success made her feel like she was on top of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events of this chapter take place several years before the last one, it's really more exposition for these two characters than anything driving the plot. But I thought it'd be fun to explain how two very different people became friends, rather than simply jumping to it being a thing.
> 
> Their friendship-inducing lab mishap is something that actually happened to me and a friend of mine in our AP Chemistry class back in high school. He also just so happened to be one of the people who dragged me to my first-ever D&D game, so it seemed like a thematic sort of thing to put into the fic.


	3. Cookies & Conversation

The ringing of the tinny little kitchen timer was largely disguised by the loud blasting of heavy metal from deeper within the house, but Pike, whose ears were well-attuned to picking up small noises in even the most inopportune circumstances, caught it immediately. She slapped the button on the top to shut it up, tucked a loose wisp of fair hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear, and slipped on her oven mitts, cracking the door open to take a look at her cookies.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon had already pervaded the room as they baked, but she breathed in deeply all the same, smiling at the warm, home-y scents. She reached to grab the cookie sheet, pulled it out, and rested it on top of the stove burners. Once she had taken her mitts off, she rested her hands on her hips to survey her work.

One or two of the batch were sort of wonky, having been awkwardly shaped when she’d dropped them onto the sheet, and she instantly decided those were her favorites -- particularly the one on the small side, and the one that had gotten a little too big. That was about par for this house, after all.

Before she could examine her work further, she picked up on another sound that should probably have been drowned out by the other noises going on -- the doorbell.

“Grog!” she shouted, hoping her words would made their way to the back of the house. “Can you turn down the music for a bit?”

Usually she was fine with it -- the two of them shared the same tastes in a lot of things, so more often than not if one of them wanted to crank the volume up on something, it was just an exercise in sharing. But it didn’t make for the easiest communication, so to answer the door it would probably be better to tone things down a bit.

Making her way to the front entryway as the volume lessened, she stood on tiptoes to peer out the peephole in the front of the door. There were two people outside, a girl and a boy, that she didn’t recognize, but given the text she’d gotten about her Craigslist posting earlier that day, that wasn’t too much of a surprise. She stepped back a bit from the door to swing it open, smiling cheerily to greet the pair of young people on the other side.

“Hello!” she greeted. “How can I help you?”

“Hello,” the girl greeted. “You and I exchanged texts a few hours ago, we’re the ones who were wondering about the--”

“--table?” Pike said.

“Yes, the table,” the girl said. “I hope it’s not any trouble, we were thinking this afternoon would be the best time to pick it up.”

“It works great for me!” Pike said.

“Great! We’ll just get it out of your way, then, and--”

“--Oh, there’s no need to rush things!” Pike said. “Unless you have somewhere to be right away, but if that isn’t the case, I just made snickerdoodles. Would you like some?”

The girl exchanged a glance with her brother -- they were obviously related, and probably twins -- who seemed to give a tiny shrug. An entire wordless conversation passed before her eyes, with the brother and sister continuing to ask each other questions using simple body language and extreme familiarity with each other.

Finally, the girl spoke again. “That would be lovely, darling,” she said, and Pike gave her another wide smile, opening the door wider to welcome them inside.

“I’m Pike, by the way,” she said. “Don’t want to be too much of a stranger.”

“Vex’ahlia,” the girl said, and her seemingly-quieter brother spoke up for the first time as well.

“Vax’ildan,” he said.

“Those are very nice names,” Pike said, leading them into the kitchen where the cookies were waiting. 

She pulled out two chairs at the little table in the corner, indicating the twins should sit down, then wandered over to the stovetop where she’d left her baking sheet, fiddling in the drawer next to it for something to scoop them up with off the still-hot pan. Once she’d acquired both the tool she was looking for and some napkins to set them on, she walked back over to where the twins were now sitting and set the cookies down in front of them.

“Would you like some milk with those?” she asked.

Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan once again did their little near-telepathic exchange before answering, seeming wary, perhaps, of her kindness and looking for ulterior motivations. Pike supposed she didn’t blame them, though it did make her a little sad that thinking that way was at all necessary.

“That won’t be necessary,” Vex’ahlia said sweetly.

“Alright, well let me know when you’re done, and I’ll get my brother out here to help with the table,” she said. “It’s a hefty one. Are you sure you’ll be able to unload it once you get back to your place?”

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” said Vax’ildan.

“We need the furniture, and ‘free’ is a very good price for it,” his sister added.

“Oh, well. We really didn’t need it around anymore,” Pike said. “I thought it’d be the best way to get it to a new home.”

“I’m just glad you were around at a convenient time for us to pick it up,” Vex’ahlia said.

“I have weird shifts,” she replied. “What with working in the ER at Redemption.”

“Redemption?”

“Redemption Medical Center, it’s the local hospital. Are you new in town?”

“Do we show it that easily?” Vex’ahlia said, frowning.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Pike said. “There are lots of new folks in the area, especially with the university downtown. More cookies?” (She noted that both twins had finished eating theirs.)

“I think we’re alright,” Vax’ildan said. “The table?”

“Just a moment, we might want some help with it,” Pike said, before shouting “GROG! CAN YOU COME HERE A MOMENT?”

Both of the twins exchanged startled looks, clearly not expecting Pike to bellow quite so loudly, but she’d taken that into consideration a bit late -- that was just how they did things around here. And sure enough, it wasn’t long before the large form of her brother appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah, Pike?” he said.

“These two are here about the old table,” she said to him. “Oh, and Vex’ahlia, Vax’ildan, this is my little brother!”

She always introduced people to Grog that way -- partially because it was true, and partially because the reactions she got from saying it, as a shy-of-five-foot woman indicating a nearly seven-foot-tall man, were always priceless.

The twins, though relatively guarded and polite in their expressions, were no exceptions.

“You want me to go grab it?” Grog asked, as the noticeably slight twins were clearly sizing him up, and Pike nodded.

“You want my help, buddy?” she asked.

“Nah, I can get it,” he said, then turned to look at the twins. “You guys’ car waiting outside?”

Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia stood up almost simultaneously.

“Yes, it’s just--”

“We can head out--”

“Hey, you just show me where to go once I’m in the garage,” Grog said. “Gotta get it out first.”

“We’ll be waiting outside, then” Vex’ahlia said. “And thank you, Pike, for the cookies.”

“You finished the cookies?” Grog said, sounding insulted. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

“Because I wanted to get to eat some myself,” Pike teased. “We can have cookies in a little bit, okay?”

Grog seemed satisfied with that answer, and went to head out to the garage. As he disappeared from the room, Pike noticed the twins also going to leave out the front door.

“Wait!” she said, and they both paused. “You still have my number in your phone, right? From the ad?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Vex’ahlia said. “Would you like us to delete it?”

“No, no!” said Pike. “The opposite, I wanted to let you know if you need anything you can call me -- I figure if you’re new in town, you probably don’t know very many people here yet.”

Both twins seemed taken aback by this offer, but composed themselves relatively quickly.

“That’s incredibly kind of you,” Vex’ahlia said.

“We’ll be sure to remember it,” Vax’ildan added.

“You sure you don’t want some cookies for the road?” Pike asked. “I made a big batch.”

“If you insist,” Vex’ahlia said, smiling.

“I do,” Pike replied. “I most definitely do.”


End file.
